Page 176 of Exposé

He swiped at my hand and avoided my gaze. “I’ll handle it."

“No, you won’t.” I grabbed the antiseptic before he could. “Hold still unless you want to lose some fingers.”

Nate puffed out a defeated breath of air, his eyes closing. "I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you, you know."

"Yeah, well. Sometimes, the roles can get reversed a little." I poured the antiseptic over the gauze and dabbed it on hiswound, his face screwing up into a grimace. "Sorry. I wish I would have taken some first-aid courses or something."

He laughed through gritted teeth, his hand coming over mine. "Because you anticipated cleaning wounds at some point in your journalism career?"

Silence flowed over us as his warmth seeped into my flesh, his proximity causing my pulse to quicken.

"I never did thank you for warning me that day."

Sucking in my inner cheek, I shook away whatever fire spread over me. "It's nothing."

If it weren't for him having cameras in my apartment, I would've never known either.

God...

"It's not nothing."

“You can’t keep ignoring this stuff.” I cleared my throat as I tore my hand from his and resumed dabbing his wound. “You’re not invincible.”

He leaned his head back. “I know.”

I glanced up, our eyes locking with something raw in his expression. Chills shot up my spine, my stomach swirling with heat steady and low. Grabbing the fresh gauze, I tore my gaze from his, laid it over his wound, and taped the edges. “Remember, if you go down, I’m screwed.” I stepped back and crossed my arms, putting the much-needed distance between us.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Nice to know you care.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I rolled my eyes, rounded the bed, and sat in front of my laptop. The screen blinked to life, and I dove back into the files.

Nate shifted, grabbing his slice of pizza, then dove back into his files, his hand brushing against my knee as he flipped the page.

My gaze darted to his hand perched beside me, then back to the screen when a soft finger slid across my bent knee, then backdown again, my stomach flipping, my eyes skimming over file names, then revisiting the ones I'd read.

Ease flowed over my nerves as his finger repeated the path, over and over, as I read the same three files' names.

"Nate?"

"Hmm?"

"How much do you want to find answers?" I swallowed the tightness in my throat.

"More than anything."

I raised a brow as I glanced down at his caressing knuckle, then at him. "Then stop touching me."

A lopsided smirk formed over his pillowy lips, his five o'clock shadow turning into a healthy beard with the days on the run. "Does it bother you?"

"I think you know the answer to that." My knee shifted away, and I focused on my computer screen as he let loose a low, rumbling laughter, cut short by a groan.

"Karma's a bitch." I gave him the side eye, a smirk of my own forming.

34

Nate

Two seedy motels later, buried under ten-hour days of sifting through encrypted files, I opened the last sub-folder. My stomach twisted, a cold weight pressing against my ribs. The nameOperation Nightfallglared back at me, each letter a silent klaxon blaring in my mind.

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